


User Error

by lilgirlost (lil_grl_lost)



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Community: trope_bingo, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 15:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_grl_lost/pseuds/lilgirlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a rapidly increasing technology budget, M had definitely had all she could take with Professor James Bond and his continuing obsession with throwing departmental computers out the window when they failed to obey him.</p><p>So she decides that the only way to teach Bond a lesson is to send him back to school, and Professor John Quinn ( Q ) of the Computer Science department is just the man for the task. </p><p>Now if only she can get Bond to stop seducing and sleeping with his TAs...</p>
            </blockquote>





	User Error

**Author's Note:**

> When I started planning out my trope-bingo card, I decided that while I was taking a stab at writing tropes that I've only ever read before I might as well try my hand at some of the fandoms I enjoyed. 
> 
> Having said that, here's my standard disclaimer: this if my first time writing James Bond (Daniel Craig)/Skyfall and I hope you like it. And also, it's unbetaed. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“M, I don’t see why I need to take this class.” Bond raged as he paced in front of his department head’s desk. Yet his anger did little to provoke an emotional response from her. M was the epitome of what it meant to be British; she had a take charge attitude, while remaining cool and collected in the face of hardships. Bond sometimes thought of getting her a poster for her office door that said: ‘Keep Calm and Be Like M.’  
  
“Because, we can’t afford to keep replacing your computer every time you get mad at it and chuck it out the window.” M replied, folding her weathered arms on the desk and staring at Bond, almost daring him to negate her statement. “Honestly James, our department isn’t made of money, contrary to what you and Miss Moneypenny seem to believe.”  
  
On his third pass of her guest chair, Bond collapsed into and said with every bit of smugness he possessed. “Well if you would give me a TA, then you wouldn’t have this problem.”  
  
“Let me get this straight, you’re placing the blame for your incurring cost of computers on me, because I won’t allow you to have a TA,” she clarified, although they both knew their continuing discussion was pointless. M had won the battle before it had ever started and James was simply going through the motions at this point.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“If you could be trusted not to continuing to sleep with your TAs and thereby opening this university to sexual harassment lawsuits, we wouldn’t be at this impasse.” M pointed out; in the last couple years, Bond’s behavior had become increasingly more destructive and M wasn’t entirely sure if it was him reaching middle age or still a by-product of his last failed relationship. “I tried everything after the first two: I gave you a male TA, in hopes that would put a stop to it and yet you slept with him; then you slept with the transitioning from male to female TA; and your last TA was a 55 year old lesbian. How do you manage it, Bond?” With a quick look, she silenced Bond before he could open his mouth to speak; she had not asked the question to elicit a response from him. “You will complete this six week course in basic computers, you will pass it with at least an 80% and you absolutely will not sleep with its professor or any of the students in the class. Do I make myself clear?”  
  
“Crystal, ma’am,” James murmured, a little embarrassed by her quick and efficient rundown of all the TAs he had slept with in the last five years or so. When she put them side-by-side like that, it was a tidbit overkill, even to his ears.  
  
“Good,” M stated before turning her attention back to the department budget. “Now go away.”  
  
Standing swiftly from his chair, Bond tilted his head slightly to the right and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

***

“Welcome to Intro to Computers and I’ll be your lecturer for the next six weeks." A young man announced to the assembled group. The computer lab wasn’t very large, at most it could hold 25 students, so even from his hiding place on the last row, James’s blonde head could still be seen. ”My name is John Quinn, but you can call me Q.”  
  
Leaning over, Q handed a stack of green covered booklets to the first person in the front row before continuing his introduction. “Over the next six weeks, we’re going to focus on learning the basics of computer software as well as examining a PC’s hardware.”  
  
"Now I like to start with the very basics, so before you even turn on a machine, I like that you learn the correct names for all interior and exterior components." Q explained simply. He liked to make everyone feel at ease with the machines, as opposed to throwing them into the deep end of the pool and praying they’ll float. "A typical desktop computer has four exterior components, though depending on the make and model of your machine, it could have more or less. These components are the following: a monitor, a CPU, which is the tower to the right of the monitor, a mouse, and a keyboard. Are there any questions?" He ended with, earning a load of blank stares and one or two eye twitches. At least, his audience appeared to have some life in them. Though given the earliest of the hour, Q couldn’t say that he really blamed them; he wasn’t a morning person until after his first couple of Earl Grey.  
  
"Good. We'll move on. As most of you know, a computer has two power buttons: one on the monitor and one on the CPU." Q continued, not bothered by the lack of response. Although he hadn’t been a professor for long, Q was well versed in the ways of nonverbal responses by students, namely the rapid blink or the blank stare. If a lecturer could see the whites of his audience’s eyes then he had won half the battle… actually getting them to listen was a different matter entirely. "Now let's talk about the interior components of the CPU, which is referred to as the computer's hardware. Within the CPU, there are many different parts..."  
  
As the lecturer continued to his explanation about computer basics, Bond tuned out, more focused on the sound of the younger man’s voice than the actual words coming from it. And Q’s looks were a terrible either, if Bond was honest, especially his shaggy dark hair and almost hipster appearance. It was the eyeglasses, which made Bond wonder briefly, if he actually needed them or if he was being ironic like some of his students.  
  
The longer he sat staring at the professor, the more Bond understood why M had threatened him against sleeping with the man. Most thought Bond was a man-whore and would sleep with anything that had a pulse; but only M knew the truth. James Bond did have a type: dark hair, slim, and smart. And if the overly dumbing down of words were any indication to Bond, then Q was probably a computer genius. Although M would never say it, she knew the reason why for all his whoring ways. Some turned to the bottle, others threw themselves into their work, not Bond though; he slept around to forget the betrayal of his ex-fiancée, Vesper Lynd.  
  
Three weeks before their wedding, Vesper dropped a bombshell, which their relationship could and would never recover from: she had been having affair with a man from her office for the last year or so and she was pregnant, unsure of which man was the father. Bond did the best he could with the situation; he had waited until a paternity test could be done before making any firm plans one way or the other. It was only after it had come back he wasn’t the father did Bond make the decision to cancel the wedding and walk away. There was no coming back from this; Bond couldn’t see himself playing house with another man’s kid. The last Bond heard, she and the baby’s father were happily married and living in the Midlands, raising a couple of sheep on a ten acre farm.  
  
“Mr. James Bond? Hullo, Mr. Bond. Are you listening to me?”  
  
“Oh, sorry… what did you say?” Bond gave him a blank stare, clearly letting the lecturer know he hadn’t been paying attention.  
  
Q rolled his eyes and sighed; behavior like this was normal, almost a given in some cases. Furthermore, M had warned him that Bond was going to be troublesome. “Never mind,” Q said, dismissing Bond before turning to a young woman with honey blonde hair. “Ms. Rowley do you know the answer?”  
  
As soon as the young woman’s mouth open to reply, Bond zoned out again; this time going as far as to lay his head on the desk in defeat. The next six weeks were going to be like slow torture for him, plus he couldn’t even think about sleeping with anyone in the course. Why did M have to make his life so difficult?  
  
“You awake?” Q asked as he knocked on the desk next to James’s head. “Class is over,” he continued, causing Bond to lift his head and look around at the empty classroom.  
  
“Sorry, didn’t mean to zone out like that.” Bond replied, giving Q his standard ‘I’m-not-really sorry, sorry’ apology. According to M and Moneypenny, they could tell which apology he was using based purely on his tone and his syntax; his apologies were like pre-recorded messages on an answering phone.  
  
“Yes, you did.” Q countered. “I know you don’t really want to be here; M warned me about you.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Q grinned smugly, before pulling up a chair in front of Bond. “Let’s make a deal. You won’t have to come to class, if you agree to come by my office every Thursday afternoon for one-on-one lectures.”  
  
“One-on-one, huh?” Bond leered as he raised an eyebrow in silent question.  
  
“Mind of out the gutter. Private lectures about computing basics that is all,” Q replied, while trying to keep his growing exasperation from his voice. “If I allow you stay in this class, you’ll going to be a distraction for the rest of the students and they honestly want to learn. You, unfortunately, do not.”  
  
“Okay,” James agreed. “Though, Friday afternoons work better for me.”  
  
Q rolled his eyes again then stuck out his hand to shake on it. “Deal.”  
  
“I usually seal my deals with kisses.” Bond told the younger man; thus, causing a faint blush to appear across his pale cheeks.  
  
“Not happening, until at least the second date.” Q responded as he stood and pushed his chair back under the desk.  
  
“Dates now, are they?” James questioned, clearly amused and intrigued by where their conversation was headed.  
  
“No,” Q said, smiling cheekily at the older professor. “You picking me up for dinner at 8 on Friday is the date.”  
  
“Didn’t M tell you that I’m not allowed to sleep with anyone in the course?”  
  
“Oh, she did. But what M doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Q smirked, giving Bond a wink in what he hoped was a suggestive manner. Normally, Q was the one being pursued for dates and sex, so his attempt at picking up Bond was entirely new ground for him.  
  
“I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship, Q.” Bond said before standing and leaning over the desk into Q’s personal space.  
  
Q’s eyebrow rose at James’s remark, “Only friendship, Mr. Bond. Here I was hoping for something more?”  
  
This time is was James’s turn to smirk. “You’ll get your something more, just not right now.” James explained gently. “After all, you’re the one who said that kisses weren’t to start until the second date.”  
  
“I’ve been known to make an expectation.” Q remarked coyly, earning a small peck on the corner of his mouth from Bond.  
  
“There’s your kiss for now, Q.” Bond told the younger man, before stepping away. “I’ll see you on Friday?” And with those parting words, Bond left the classroom and Q, who had an expression of mild annoyance on his face.  
  
 _Maybe I played it a little too coy_ , Q thought as James disappeared. Shrugging his shoulders, Q grabbed his bag from his desk and followed. _Two could play this game and James Bond isn’t going to know what hit him._


End file.
